


Christmas at the Tylers'

by space_oddity_75



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Baking, Christmas Fluff, Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Happy, Love, Pregnancy, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:39:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_oddity_75/pseuds/space_oddity_75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little Sam/Annie happy!fic (because sometimes fluff is just what you need after a bad day!).<br/>AU, set after 2.08 (no spoilers).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas at the Tylers'

Manchester – Christmas Day, 1974

 

The snowfall that had covered the streets of Manchester with a chilly white blanket during the night was slowly subsiding as the morning went by. Only a few lazy flakes were still floating around before melting on top of each other as soon as they touched the ground.

In the warmth of her cozy semi-detached house full of Christmas decorations, Annie was halfway through the washing up, grimacing as the hot water made her brow sweat. She eyed the pile of remaining dirty pans and dishes with contempt, contemplating leaving them in the sink until Boxing day, but then her housewife instinct overcame her tiredness and she picked up the last few pieces of offending crockery, which she shoved under the running water as if wanting to drown them.

Why she had accepted to invite so many guests for Christmas and let Sam cook, she really had no idea. True, her slowly growing belly wasn’t yet preventing her from doing all the housework she was accustomed to, and the baby wasn’t due until the end of March, but she’d started to feel some back pain lately and would definitely have preferred to spend a quiet day at home cuddling with her husband rather than putting up with a bunch of noisy and attention-demanding guests.

As soon as she’d finished doing the dishes, she dried her hands in her apron and put on the kettle for a nice hot tea, just as Sam entered the house from the garden door and discarded his wet shoes and jacket before joining her in the kitchen. 

He’d spent almost an hour clearing the pathways from the snow and spreading salt to prevent ice from forming onto the doorstep and the walkway. It was freezing cold outside and all he wanted to do now was take a hot bath, sit back and relax until the guests arrived.

He hugged Annie from behind and started to kiss her neck, burying his cold nose in her hair and inhaling her scent as she giggled. She smelled like orange and cinnamon, just like the biscuits that were cooking in the oven. He couldn’t recall any other time in his life when he’d felt more at peace with himself, and that sensation really warmed his heart.

‘How’s my beautiful wife and heir, then? You both missed me so much, didn’t you?’, he asked cheekily as Annie turned to face him, the special sparkle given by pregnancy evident in her eyes. 

Kissing her sweetly, he raised his eyebrows in an eloquent way. ‘So, what’ve you two been doing while your valiant knight was busy protecting the Tyler Estate and freezing to death fighting the raging storm?’

In response, she placed a hand over her belly, talking sweetly to her unborn child rather than to her husband. ‘Well, while daddy enjoyed himself playing with the snow like a big baby, we were busy baking yummy biscuits for our guests, weren’t we?’ Then she glared at Sam and poked him in the ribs lightly. ‘And also washing an inordinate amount of dishes, courtesy of the resident chef!”

Sam rolled his eyes knowingly, as an image of his twenty-first century flat crossed his mind briefly.   
‘Sorry about that, but I promise that one day you’ll have a stylish stainless steel kitchen with a multi-function microwave oven and a state-of-the-art dishwasher. Give it a few years and all this damn handwashing will only be a bad memory, okay?’

‘Will you stop mocking me with your fantastic visions of the future? As if any of them could ever come true!’ laughed Annie disbelievingly. ‘Besides, this wouldn’t even be a bad memory if you didn’t insist on using all the pots and pans we have in the house whenever you decide to cook something fancy!’, she retorted playfully, pointing a slender finger at his chest. 

He shrugged innocently, taking a sideways glance at the numerous dishes he’d prepared earlier on, now lying neatly in their serving trays on the kitchen table.

‘And the amount of that, too! Looks like you prepared enough food for the Queen and the whole British Army to last a year!’

‘C’mon, it’s nothing special, really. Just some avocado with shrimps, aubergine casserole, roast veal in a pastry crust and, as a dessert, apple dumplings with vanilla sauce.’ He beamed at his work of art. ‘Must admit it took me a while to find all the right ingredients around town, but only three hours to prepare everything. See? Fast and easy!’

‘Yeah, but what’s not so fast and easy is cleaning up after you, darling!’ 

‘Oi, miss! You’re offending the chef here!’ he grinned, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. ‘Don’t you know that my creativity needs all the right tools in order to find its best expression?!?’

‘Really? Well, if you want to express yourself so badly, why don’t you use your creativity to set up the table nicely, while you’re at it? Our guests will be here soon and I still need to get dressed properly for the day. You don’t want me to welcome them in my nightgown and slippers, do you? Besides, there will be more dishes and casseroles for you to wash after lunch, so you’d better not waste all your creative energies right now!’

‘But...’

‘No buts. Just hot water and detergent. And try to rinse them well, please. You wouldn’t want to eat pasta with soap sauce tomorrow, now would you?’

‘Are you bossing me around, Mrs Tyler?’

‘Me? Maybe...’ she smirked. ‘Off you go, then. Chop chop!’

With that, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and happily disappeared upstairs, leaving a red tablecloth in his hands and a nice smell of baked pastry lingering in the kitchen.

In the far corner of the living room, just a few steps from the table Sam was starting to prepare, stood a small artificial Christmas tree decorated with garlands, plastic baubles, lights and a golden angel figure on top. Just below the angel hung a pair of hand-knitted baby shoes.

The previous year, the best Christmas present for Sam had been when he’d slipped an engagement ring on Annie’s finger and she’d accepted to marry him. This year, their present would be delivered with a few months’ delay, but he had no doubt it would be the best gift on earth.


End file.
